“Yes, this car has a GPS, and I pretty much remember how we went yesterday. It’s not all that far.”
“Okay. Please tell Josie again how much we enjoyed the tour and how much we learned.” He leaned over and kissed her as he opened the door. “Wish me luck. Not many things make me nervous at this stage of my life, but the prospect of playing golf with two scratch golfers might just do it.”
“Love you and see you later,” she said. She watched Mike saunter over to the pro shop as she waved and drove away.
CHAPTER 11
Carlos Romano was sitting in his office at the Romano Winery, talking to his winemaker, Matteo Lucci. He rubbed his unshaven chin. “Matteo, what can we do to make our wines better? I’m at the end of my rope. It’s so frustrating to see the Moretti Winery get all the top awards every year, and we come in second. Since the crush is over and we have a little time before we bottle the wine, do you have any ideas?”
“Carlos, I wish I did.” Matteo said as he studied Carlos’ lined and weathered face. Carlos had always been patient, waiting for Matteo to produce an award-winning wine, and Matteo sensed he was getting tired of Matteo failing to produce the results he wanted. “Believe me, there is nothing I want more than to be known as the winemaker of the top wines produced in the valley. The vines here are good, and we don’t have a problem with disease or contaminates. Quite frankly, I just don’t know why we are not able to capture the top awards.”
Carlos continued to press the point. “Don’t you and your wife ever discuss it? I mean, she’s the winemaker for the winery that gets the top awards, and you’re her husband. Doesn’t she ever share with you what she does? How different can it be from what we do?” He raked a hand through his gray shoulder length hair in frustration.
“No, we don’t discuss it. It infuriates me Angela makes better wine than I do. Trust me, I really want to be the best winemaker in the valley, but as long as she’s around, I don’t know how that’s going to happen.” Matteo’s posture was hunched, sharing Carlos’ frustration. “And I have no idea what she does that makes her wines just that much better. It was causing so much friction between us, she finally told me she would never again discuss the subject with me.”
Carlos eyed him with concern. “I can understand that. I’m sure it would be the cause of some marital tension. Is there anything you can think of that she does differently from us?”
Matteo was quiet for several moments, his chin resting in his hand, then he spoke. “The only thing I know of that she does differently than we do is that every day she takes a sip of each of the wines that are fermenting in the vats after the crush. She does it every night promptly at 7:00 p.m. I know the exact time because we have dinner after that, but I don’t see what that has to do with producing good wine.”
Carlos frowned. “I don’t either, but it must have something to do with it.” Just then there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Carlos said, pausing to see who was entering. “Aah, Alessandra, what can I do for you?” Carlos didn’t miss the lingering glance Matteo gave her and couldn’t blame him. If she wasn’t his niece, he’d probably do the same. Nor did he miss the flirtatious look she gave Matteo.
It was hard not to feel carnal longings for the sultry looking twenty-seven-year-old dark-haired Italian beauty with pouty lips and a body even movie stars would envy. She was dressed in a low-necked fitted red sweater that showed off her ample cleavage. Tight jeans and a wide tightly clenched belt highlighted her small waist and long legs. She wore a pair of rubber-soled sandals with dark blue socks, which seemed out of place with the rest of her outfit.
She was spending a year with Carlos, learning the ways of American wine-making, so she could take what she learned back to her family in Tuscany. It was obvious from the way Matteo was looking at her with undisguised lust that whatever Alessandra was feeling, Matteo was feeling the same way. An idea began to form in Carlos’ mind.
“Please join us, Alessandra. We were just talking about what Matteo could do to become the number one winemaker in the valley, but I am curious why you are wearing sandals now that summer is over.”
“I like to wear them when I’m out in the vineyard. It’s not that cold and it’s so easy to wash the dirt off, as well as the mud, if we’ve had some rain. From what I’ve seen, most of the winemakers wear them. See, Matteo has them on. I think you’re about the only one who doesn’t wear them.
“Anyway, Uncle Carlos, I came to talk to you about Angela as well,” she said as she looked over at Matteo behind eyelashes as thick as a camel’s. “I have spent time with many of the wine people here in the valley since I came to live with you, and almost all of them wonder how Angela continues to turn out the best award-winning wines, considering the small size of the Moretti Winery. Some say she’s a witch and casts a magic spell over the vines.”
Carlos turned and looked at Matteo. “Maybe that’s the secret we’ve been looking for, Matteo. Who knows? It could be that you’re married to a witch.” He laughed. “Many years ago in Italy, if someone was thought to be or accused of being a witch, they were killed. And just think, what if Angela had an accident, and I mean a really bad accident? Certainly, accidents have been known to happen to witches. What if she fell in one of the vats while she was doing her nightly tasting? It would be a tragedy, of course.”
He created a steeple with the fingers of his hands and continued, “But then again, if there were to be an accident of that nature, you would become, by default, the number one winemaker in the valley.”
Matteo looked at him in disbelief. “Carlos, that is crazy talk, and I don’t want to hear any more of it.”
Carlos looked at him with an innocent expression on his face and said, “Matteo, I’m not suggesting anything. I was only saying what a tragedy it would be if something happened to Angela, but then again, as a consequence, you would be the number one winemaker in the valley.”
Matteo was quiet for a long time, and then he began to speak. “My grandmother believed in witches and Satan. She was always telling us that she was glad that we three boys were right-handed because left-handed people made the sign of the cross with that hand, and everyone knew that Satan used his left hand to baptize witches. She said that anyone who was left-handed was a witch, and she said they should all be killed.” He took a deep breath and said, “Angela is left-handed.”
Following that remark, the silence in the room was deafening. They looked at one another, but none of them wanted to break the silence. Finally, Matteo stood up and said, “I must go. It is late. I want to forget this conversation ever happened, but I probably won’t be able to.” He closed the door behind him as he walked out of the room.
When he was gone, Carlos turned towards Alessandra and said, “It is obvious you have feelings for Matteo. Would I be right?”
Alessandra’s face lit up as she spoke. “Yes, Uncle Carlos, from the moment I met him, I felt something here.” She raised a hand to her chest and continued to speak. “But he is married. It is stupid of me, I know, but I often make up excuses to go to his office, or out in the vineyards if he is there, or visit the tasting room in the hope that he will be there. It is hopeless. I have never had a problem getting a man to fall in love with me, but Matteo is different.”
Carlos pondered what she had just said. “Maybe not so much. It seems to me the problem is his wife. If she were no longer around, you would not have a problem getting Matteo to be yours. If she were to have an accident when she was having her evening sip of wine from the vats…” His voice drifted off as he locked eyes with his beautiful niece, who was lost in thoughts of her own.
CHAPTER 12
“Nadia, come join me, and we can sit on the veranda. It’s a beautiful evening, and I want to share a bottle of our best wine with you. After all we, deserve it,” Giovanni Moretti said to his wife of twenty-five years.
The last rays of the sun bathed the nearby hills in a soft glow as the vineyards of the Moretti wine holdings stretched out as far as t
he eye could see. Giovanni’s family had been important members of the wine industry in Italy for over a century and after many family discussions, it was decided that it was time for the Moretti family to expand their winemaking business in the Napa-Sonoma region of California. The family had purchased sixty acres, and Giovanni had come to California and planted the grape vines that had done so well in Tuscany.
Within a few years, the Moretti label became one of the best known in the young California wine industry, and the name was one to be trusted for quality and excellence. In addition to the vines he had brought with him from Italy, he added to the family of Moretti wines by buying grapes from many nearby smaller vineyards and used them to create blends that were less expensive, but well received by the thirsty public.
After several years, he felt it was time to marry, and his family was insistent that he wed a woman named Nadia who was the daughter of the owner of a neighboring vineyard in Tuscany. When his family mentioned her name, he remembered how beautiful she was. One year he returned to Italy for the Christmas holidays and two months later returned with Nadia as his bride It was a decision he never regretted, although after a meaningless affair he’d had early in their marriage, she made it very clear to him, family and religion notwithstanding, that if it ever happened again, she would leave him. She even hinted that might be the least of his problems with his death being another option.
Many times over the years, her fear of him having another affair had led to fiery arguments, but true to his word, he had never strayed from his marriage after that one time. Even so, he knew it was never far from her mind. It was like the elephant in the room that no one wanted to acknowledge, something that was always in the back of the temperamental Nadia’s mind.
“This is excellent, Gio. I assume it’s from our winery in Sonoma. I think you made a very good decision when you decided to purchase the Sonoma vineyard and plant it with the best grapes money could buy. The wine that is made there is excellent. No wonder we win awards for it every year.”
“That’s true, caro mio, but I wonder how successful we would be without Angela. She really is the best winemaker in the valley. We are so fortunate to have her. When my parents suggested we hire her for our new undertaking, the Moretti Winery, it was a very good decision. I’m certainly glad they urged me to do so.”
After several moments, Gio became aware that Nadia had not spoken, and there was a scowl on her face. “Caro mio, what is it? Is something wrong? Is it something I’ve said or done?” he asked as he gently swirled the wine in his glass to release the bouquet.
“Gio, you don’t need to say or do anything. It’s rather obvious that the fact that Angela is responsible for the excellent wine we produce is a plus, but the real reason you keep her is that you can’t take your eyes off of her whenever you’re around her, and it has nothing to do with the wine.” Nadia sighed, setting her wine glass down on the marble tabletop. “This has lost its appeal for me.”
“Nadia, that’s not fair. I have never given you one reason to think anything like that. We put that subject to rest years ago, and I thought we’d agreed to never discuss it again.”
Nadia sighed again, a sad smile crossing her face, but her eyes betrayed the smile with their anger. “You agreed never to discuss it again. How stupid do you think I am?” She hissed at him. “I know it’s just a matter of time until you and Angela have an affair. You think I don’t know she’d much rather be the wife of the owner of the prestigious Moretti Winery rather than married to her husband, a second-rate winemaker.
“All the men talk about how beautiful she is, and I’m sure that her beauty, along with her winemaking excellence, will prove irresistible to you. It’s just a matter of when.” Nadia leaned across the table waving her hand at Giovanni, who shrunk back. “Maybe it’s time for me to handle the situation. You never were a man who could resist a temptation, and if the temptation was no longer around…” She jutted her chin out, her mouth set firmly in a straight line.
“Nadia, quit talking like a crazy woman. The only relationship I have with Angela is one of business, nothing more.”
“Really?” Nadia’s brow creased. “I seem to remember you saying those very same words many years ago. It looks like history is going to repeat itself in the form of Angela Lucci. Well, not if I have anything to say about it. Everyone knows that after the crush she has a little sip from the vats at 7:00 p.m. every night. It would truly be a shame if she fell into one of the vats when she was tasting the wine. I’m going to bed. I have a headache. Good night, Gio,” she said as she strode off the veranda and slammed the door shut behind her.
CHAPTER 13
Kelly returned to the bed and breakfast after she’d taken Mike to the Sonoma Golf Club and spent an hour reading a book she’d had on her Kindle for months. She could easily have spent another hour or so in the comfortable guest lounge that housed an assortment of comfortable mismatched armchairs and walls of books and art pieces, but she promised herself she would return later with Mike. Josie had told them the previous afternoon that she was always in her office by 9:30, so Kelly was sure she’d be there by now.
Between the GPS and her memory, she had no problem driving to the Moretti Winery, but when she got there she was surprised to see a number of vehicles, including sheriffs’ cars. The gates to the vineyard were wide open, and she was easily able to park her car in the parking lot. She opened her car door and glanced over at the barn where the wine vats were located. She gasped involuntarily when she saw the yellow tape surrounding it, indicating it was the scene of a crime. She hurried up the steps leading to the tasting room and office area, while a number of law enforcement personnel milled around the area.
Kelly walked down the hall to Josie’s office and knocked on the door. “Come in,” a tearful voice said as a dog barked on the other side of the door. “Don’t worry, the dog won’t hurt you.”
A worried Kelly opened the door and saw Josie cuddling an adorable little dog who was madly licking her face. It was easy to see the dog was trying to lick away her tears.
“Josie, I’m sorry. I had no idea there has been some sort of a problem here at the winery. If this isn’t a convenient time, I can come back later,” Kelly said as she turned back towards the open door.
“No, it’s fine, Kelly,” Josie said as she waved her in. “As a matter of fact, I could do with the company right now. Please come in. You’ll hear about it soon enough on the television news or read about it in the paper, so I might as well be the one to tell you.”
“Tell me what? Hear about what?” Kelly sat down opposite Josie, who continued to cuddle the dog.
“Remember the winemaker who came into the tasting room yesterday? Her name was Angela Lucci. I introduced her, and she talked to your group for a moment or so.”
Kelly nodded.
“I heard a lot of barking yesterday evening,” Josie sniffed. “I recognized it as Angela’s dog, this little girl, Foxie, is her name.” She stroked Foxie’s head while she laid very still on her lap. “She’s such a lovable little fox terrier, and Angela had told me that although the breed was known for barking, she’d trained her not to, but when I heard her it was almost as if she was frantic. I was in my house, and the barking went on and on. Finally, I decided something might be wrong, so I went in the direction of the sound of her barking.”
Josie’s lip quivered and her shoulders shook. “It was coming from the vat barn. The doors were slightly ajar and Foxie was on a leash tied to a nearby post and looking in, all the time trying to shake her leash off.
“I calmed her down, and then I went into the barn. I didn’t see anything, but I noticed that the lid on the first fermentation vat was open. Angela was very firm that the lids should be secured at all times, because she didn’t want contaminants of any type to get into the vats.”
“What happened?” Kelly asked.
“I walked up the steps of the vat where the lid was open, looked down into the vat, and saw Angela’s body fl
oating in the wine. She was dead.” Josie began to sob uncontrollably, covering her face with her hands while Foxie made whimpering sounds.
It took Kelly a moment to digest what Josie had just told her. From what she had seen of Angela the previous afternoon, the woman had seemed pleasant, and nothing about her had struck Kelly as out of the ordinary. “Oh, Josie, what a tragedy. What do you think happened?”
“Well, as I said on the tour yesterday, every year we hear stories about someone who becomes overwhelmed by carbon dioxide fumes, falls in a wine vat, and dies. I think I even mentioned the case in Spain where the winery owner’s niece fell in a vat and died, but Angela was the most careful person I’ve ever met. I just don’t see that happening to her.”
“What a horrible thing to discover. Did you call the sheriff or what?”
“Not right away. I went to Jim’s home and told him what I’d discovered. He hurried down to the barn with Foxie and me. I’d taken Foxie with me when I left the barn, and Jim confirmed I was right, that Angela was dead. As the manager, it was his responsibility to call the sheriff, and he did. Within minutes, the place was swarming with the sheriff, his deputies, firemen, paramedics, all kinds of emergency response people, and later the coroner.”
“Angela was married, wasn’t she?”
“Yes, her husband is the winemaker at the Romano Winery.”
“How did he take it?”
“Jim and I went to their home after the police had been called. We felt that we owed it to him to tell him before the police interviewed him.”
“How did he do?”
“He wasn’t home when we got there. In the meantime, the sheriff had arrived, and he was the one who told Matteo the said news. It was horrible. Matteo appeared to be devastated. I kept Foxie because she isn’t Matteo’s favorite, and he had enough on his mind without having to deal with a dog that had been devoted to his wife, who was now dead. Matteo and Foxie never really bonded. I’d like to think Matteo was devastated, but then again…” Josie looked off in the distance, as her voice trailed away.
Murdered By Wine: A Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery (Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Series Book 13) Page 5